Y'all asked and since I always aim to please, I'm gonna attempt to translate the term "grocery store feet" in somewhat...ahem...genteel terms. I'm thinking a lot of y'all don't run around barefoot much...leastways not as much as me.
Down here in the South...
or maybe just in Texas...
or maybe just in my neck o'the woods...
or maybe just at the Casita de Trash...
come warm weather...shoes are optional.
When it comes to staying shod, I've been a hillbilly as long as I can remember. (Love shoes...just don't want to wear 'em!) Mother couldn't keep a pair on me to save her life...and law how she tried. The bottoms of my feet in the summertime resembled shoe leather. Hot asphalt, pebbles, mud...nothing slowed me down...'cept maybe the occasional Coke lid.
By the time I hit my teen years, it was all about peace, macrame, and going barefoot. Goodness...threw on some frayed bell bottoms and I fit right in without trying!
Fast forward to my adult years and I gave new meaning to barefoot and pregnant! If I was at home...my shoes were in the closet. If I put on shoes, the melonheads and dog knew we were going somewhere...and not just to the mailbox.
As I've gotten older, I've caved to conventionalism and only go paddlin' around barefoot here at mi casa. My days of roaming outside without shoes are behind me now and sadly no more of "this little piggie went to market",
let me tell y'all...not everyone has the same hangups as me!
(Contrary to popular belief...I do care what kind of impression I leave behind...even on total strangers!)
On any given day, I'm willing to bet a dollar to a donut, you can go to just about any grocer's in town and more'n likely as not...there's gonna to be at least one person walking around like Fred Flintstone...or Yeti.
Picture if you will, feet blackened by dirt so deeply embedded, no amount of
Lava can erase it.
Heels calloused to the point, matches can be lit off 'em.
Toenails with vestiges of jungle red nail polish clinging to 'em like tiny life boats.
Feet...when strolled in for a pedicure...makes a manicurist run for the mouse sander...and rubber gloves.
That my friends...in a nutshell...is grocery store feet.
Speaking of nutshells...Squirrel alert!
I've recently read on the Pinterest Help page about an option you can place on your photos/blog if you don't want your images pinned. Some of y'all expressed concern over this, so if this is a choice you'd like to have, just go to their Help page and they provide a code. Those Pinterest guys...they think of everything!
I ain't gonna lie to y'all. My feet look pretty doggone raggedy...even with the addition of the proper accessories...and by accessories, I mean granny beads and a junker's tan. Fact is, by the time we come home from the Mother Ship I will have pretty much cornered the market on dirt, dust, grime...and not just on my feet!
(BTW...the greatest show on dirt now has a new web page and blog. Can you say Yee to the Haw?)
I hope this cleared things up for y'all. Sometimes I forget not everyone is as messy or dirty as me! I also tend to forget Trash-ese is a language not everyone is familiar with.
(Hmmm...wonder if I need to write a dictionary or at least a tourist guide for visiting here?)
In closing...I would like to add just one more little bit of info. Grocery store feet should never be confused with Yellow Box feet. Y'all...that is a whole 'nother post!